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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26306467">Memorial Service</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/completetheory/pseuds/completetheory'>completetheory</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Spectacular Spider-Man (Cartoon)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Implied/Referenced Abuse, Mild Language, Multi, Other, Polyamory, Post-Canon, Queer Friendly, Sinister Six - Freeform, Trans Female Character, trans nonbinary character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 10:02:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,781</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26306467</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/completetheory/pseuds/completetheory</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dr. Otto Octavius and the Sinister Six visit the graveside of Norman Osborn, on the night of his burial, to conduct an investigation, and sort through some checkered history. Is Osborn really dead? Does he live on in our hearts? </p><p>No. And also no.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Otto Octavius/Adrian Toomes, Otto Octavius/Electro, Poly Sinister Six</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Memorial Service</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadScientific/gifts">MadScientific</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A quick note on gender; the Vulture (she/her) and Electro (she/her) are both trans ladies, Otto (them/they) and Mysterio (one) are both trans nonbinary, the former transmasc and the latter agender. O'Hirn (he/him) is also nonbinary.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The New York Municipal Cemetery closed at 10:00pm, and the Sinister Six let themselves in over the back fence around 11:30. With just a few mirrors, and appropriate lighting, Mysterio cordoned off the desired area, making it appear as though their target was peaceful and undisturbed. </p><p>O'Hirn did most of the digging, but truthfully, any one of them could have managed. There hadn't been much left of Norman Osborn, and urns were only buried three feet deep. </p><p>Doctor Octopus stood at the head of the grave (modest, for Osborn, as it was smaller than a pyramid), comparing it to the surrounding gravestones (smaller, because Osborn had been petty, and his grave should reflect that, too), and tried to find a feeling. The good Doctor supposed that feeling should have been 'anger', or 'satisfaction', or even, perhaps, 'sadness'. Instead, it was... void. The lack of a feeling. And not emotional numbness, either, that had its own distinct, paradoxical effect. </p><p>Honestly, Octopus felt like the Six were visiting the grave of someone else's gerbil.</p><p>O'Hirn's shovel struck something metal, and he exclaimed, "I think we got it!" </p><p>"Excellent. Bring it up." Doctor Octopus folded both organic hands, with the kindling of anticipation at last. </p><p>Vulture... ever loyal Vulture, at the Doctor's elbow, murmuring, "I've already double-checked with the local lab. Dr. Warren says there's no way to identify cremated remains with DNA - the heat destroys it." </p><p>Dr. Octopus nodded, and indicated that O'Hirn should give the urn across. With Adrian looking on, Otto used a tentacle to brute force the welded lid. </p><p>The interior was... underwhelming, really. A small plastic bag, no different than a trashcan liner (also fitting, Otto mused, for someone as cruel as Norman Osborn, to be so ignobly disposed of), of silt-like dust. No teeth, as they had also been pulverized during the cremation process. </p><p>"Kraven." The Doctor held out the bag, after opening it, and Kraven took it in his considerable paws, and sniffed above the bag. </p><p>"Mmm... it is unusual." Kraven dug out a tattered scrap of Goblin costume, sniffing that again, and then returning to the cremains, "Very odd." </p><p>"I have every faith in you, Kraven, so take your time." Ock was calm, benign; they put a hand on Adrian's shoulder, "Mr. Osborn can wait a few minutes longer, as can we all." </p><p>Again, Ock tried to kindle some kind of emotion about the whole process. The man had terrorized Otto; Norman had threatened their life, telling them in as many words that doctors were <i>replaceable</i>, had shown no sign of emotion at Flint Marko's almost-death, and had then turned the key that had almost murdered Otto, after the Doctor had shown <i>fear</i> about their illegal activities. Not even a threat to expose him! Osborn had not seemed to care that Ock had been compliant, and that - should have made their blood boil now, surely?</p><p>It had done, at the beginning. But Otto came to realize that, for someone like Norman Osborn, there was just no room inside him to care about anyone else, except as an obstacle or a tool. He didn't have real relationships with anyone - he was incapable of caring about his wife or his child, or the good name of his company, or anything. He was no better than a landslide that had tried to bury Otto, as he would not be able to understand the reasoning behind revenge, not apologize for anything he had done, nor feel the grief that came with growth of the self. </p><p>He was an insensate mechanism, and therefore, Norman Osborn simply was not worth the fury. <i>Especially</i> if he was dead, though not even if he had somehow survived. He was pathetic. He was <i>weak.</i> Too weak to know the glory of mutually exchanged love, only criticism for his own blood. Too weak to surround himself with true allies, only paid or bullied servants. Too weak to admit when he was wrong and change his approach, too weak to challenge his worse nature and overcome it, subjugated by his own cruelty to others.</p><p>Obsessed with power, but only for power's sake. No end goal besides lashing out like a beheaded snake, and weak in every way that Otto Octavius had come to loathe weakness. Norman Osborn was--</p><p>"Are you all right?" Adrian whispered it, trying to be discreet, as Kraven pawed through the bag with determination.</p><p>"Mmm?" Otto refocused on her, realizing their tentacles had coiled and were 'looking' about the cemetery in distractable irritation. Adrian knew their body language well, and Otto took her hand and squeezed it tightly. "Yes, dear. Just thinking about him." </p><p>The anger had crept up on Otto like a thief, stealing their calm, but the Vulture helped to ground them again with a returning squeeze, and they leaned a fraction against her.</p><p>"This was not Osborn." Kraven decided, after thorough examination. </p><p>O'Hirn raised his eyebrows. "You think maybe they just scooped somebody else out and called it good? I mean how else couldja tell, huh?"</p><p>"Are you sure of your conclusion?" Ock asked Kraven directly, "How sure?" </p><p>"Da. Very sure; Kraven can pick out human ashes, eight inches below the ashes of house-fire." Kraven promised, "I took so long, because I wished to sample all the bag, in case of Mx. O'Hirn's theory. But these are not human remains at all. And they are not remains of Osborn. Kraven swears it."</p><p>A car drove past the cemetery, on the quiet street, and Mysterio alerted to it to ensure they weren't disturbed, but it hardly mattered to Ock at that moment. </p><p>They threw their tentacles through the <i>'Dearly Beloved, Norman Osborn, Father, Husband, Philanthropist'</i>, and cracked the stone in three places, strewing it across the green, and leaving only the date behind. They didn't scream, or yell, or curse. They simply obliterated. </p><p>Mysterio commiserated, "Incredible. I saw the footage. I find it hard to believe, myself... I shall have to review it to see if I can tell how it was done." </p><p>None of them were afraid of Otto's wrath directed toward them, as none of them had ever experienced so much as an unkind word from their <i>de facto</i> leader - Otto strove to be a different leader to Osborn in every way possible, and that included the obvious, like death threats, and the belittling, the horrible nicknames... They had deadnamed Electro once, and regretted it afterward, apologized, and never repeated it.</p><p>"Indeed." Ock glanced aside, regathering their poise. They didn't implicate Mysterio as being part of it - Chameleon had worked with, or for, Norman Osborn; all of them had various tangled loyalties, but Octopus had many arms, and feared no Gordian Knot. If Mysterio had known about the fakeout, one might have come to Otto privately and told them, and spared them all the trouble of digging and examining. They would have found out one way or another. </p><p>Electro frowned. "Well, that was a bust." </p><p>Ock shook their head. "No matter. We know now, and that knowledge can only be good. Even an unpleasant truth is valuable. If he resurfaces, we will have an advantage, and seek to destroy him while he thinks his enemies are oblivious; he can be counted on to underestimate us. Fill in the dirt. Reconvene at our base: be discreet, take different routes, in case you are for some reason followed. Mysterio, accompany O'Hirn, please." </p><p>"As you wish." Mysterio paused, and took Ock's hand, lifting it to one's globe in imitation of a kiss. "Never fear. We will do away with Mr. Osborn eventually, and he will rue the day he crossed our leader." </p><p>"Thank you, Mysterio." Otto waited until they had all dispersed; all but Adrian and Electro, who lingered near the ruined grave. The former worked to rebury the urn with its counterfeit contents, as Ock watched, and Electro lurked anxiously near Dr. Octopus.</p><p>"You need a charge, Doc?" </p><p>"I'm fine, thank you." Ock looked to Electro, realizing she was at a loose end, and needed something to do. Vulture needed no assistance burying the urn, however... Ock put a tentacle around Electro's non-conductive shoulders. "But I could use a distraction." </p><p>As could Electro, conveniently. </p><p>"Yeah? What kind?" Electro patted the tentacle hand, "I guess you don't like thinking about your old ratfuck boss, and especially if he ain't dead, but if I find him, I'll run twenty thousand volts through --" </p><p>"It's all right. Believe me. Don't waste rage on him." Otto urged, softly, "I regret having done so myself just now, but the wound still heals. This is why I was pleased that you saw me as a mentor, but could still disagree with me - could stand up to me. It means I have done well, I have made myself approachable. Your equal in all things, who leads you while you consent to be led. That is what I desire more than anything." </p><p>"Yeah!" Electro's enthusiasm couldn't be matched. "You do! I mean it. You're a genius. And I know you want to help me - help us - get what we want, and need, I mean. You know?" </p><p>"Excellent." Otto withdrew a burner cellphone. "Then please order us a few pizzas, won't you?" </p><p>Electro took the phone, carefully ungloved, as she knew Otto wanted her to practice her control, pushing the package out a little further each time. She ordered, remembering that Tinkerer was vegetarian and Beck liked ham and pineapple, and that Vulture and Ock shared a love of cheesy garlic bread. Otto was enraptured by her as well - <i>charmingly uncomplicated</i>, they remembered saying one time. Guileless. Someone whose very direct personality spared Ock the worry of a knife in the back, and early on, when Ock had really needed companions who weren't... <i>difficult.</i> </p><p>Some might have said her temperament <b>was</b> difficult, but Electro and Ock had been through very similar traumatic accidents, and Ock understood the initial waves of anger, the ecstatic, savage joy of obtaining means to pay out one's foes their due. Electro's desire for a cure was heartbreaking. Ock planned to 'cure' her by teaching her gradually to fine-tune her powers to the point she no longer needed to fear touching someone else. </p><p>"We have sodas." Ock added, helpfully, and turned to go, with Vulture's shadow in the air overhead like a guardian angel. It was much better, Ock thought, the rubble was almost forgotten. Whether Norman was alive or not, his poison very nearly purged from Otto's spirits. Emotionally, Ock left him in the cemetery where he belonged. </p><p>"Did you really memorize which pizzas we all like?" </p><p>Electro blinked. "I mean. Yeah? Is that weird?"</p><p>Otto's tentacles stretched and then relaxed, content. "Not at all."</p>
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